Survival of the Fittest
by Feline Rose
Summary: An attack on New York City by an unknown enemy forces the detectives of and formerly of the Major Case Squad to band together to survive and restore their beloved city. Relationships will be tested and secrets will be revealed, but they all know that the world as they know it will never be the same.
1. In the Beginning

The world ended on a Friday. Bobby could smell the smoke and ash from where he and Alex were staying out in the country for the weekend. That morning he was staring out the north window when his partner came up beside him.  
"Hey." she greeted, her voice still rough with sleep. Bobby turned and kissed her. His eyes roamed downward to the slight swell of her abdomen. Only six months remained until he became a father.  
"Alex?"  
"Hm?"  
"Do you smell something?" Alex furrowed her eyebrows and sniffed.  
"Smoke," she observed. "coming from the city. A lot of it- Bobby, what's wrong?"  
"I- I don't know." he admitted. "I, uh, need to make a call." He wandered off into the den. Alex remained at the window, thinking. Her hands drifted to her stomach, where her and Bobby's offspring grew blessedly unaware of the danger brewing in her parents' hometown.

Meanwhile, in the city, all Hell was breaking loose. Mike Logan, four years retired from the New York City police force, scrambled to evacuate people from the burning pub where he had been enjoying a cold beer just moments before.  
"Okay, everybody out, this way, c'mon, let's move!" Soon he heard firetrucks coming from nearby. _'Finally.'_ he thought. Another loud boom came from just beyond that. "Oh, Jesus!" he exclaimed, earning a worried look from the woman he was escorting from the demolished pub. He gave her a reassuring look and handed her off to the waiting arms of her family, who had come, along with many others, once they heard what was happening on the news.  
In the midst of the chaos Mike found himself thinking, _'What the hell's going on?'_

It took Carolyn a moment to remember where she was. The Anti-Terrorism building had collapsed after the third bomb had struck the iron and concrete structure. At least, she thought it was a bomb.  
Why was it so dark? The blackness seemed to go on forever. The pain in her head only made matters worse. She reached out a hand tentatively to try and find an intact wall to guide her footsteps. Instead, she found herself being hoisted up by unseen hands. A tingle crept up her arm to her aching head. The pain subsided and she began to be able to make out rough patterns of light and dark.  
"Thank you." she croaked. Her voice felt raw, like she had been screaming. 'The smoke.' she decided. 'I must have inhaled some smoke when the building went down.' Out loud, she asked. "Why is it so dark in here?" Her rescuer was silent for a long moment before he said,  
"We're outside. It's daytime." Carolyn took this in. Daytime. Outside. 'No.' she thought. This couldn't be happening. "You need to get me to a hospital." she told her companion. She felt him tense.  
"The hospital's gone. It blew soon after your building was hit." Carolyn started shivering, not from the cold, but from fear. Did this mean she would be blinded forever? If so, she's have to quit the police force. What would she do then? Her rescuer interrupted her rising panic by guiding her away from the wreckage, taking care to help her avoid the fallen rubble.  
"Detective Zach Nichols, Major Case."  
"Major Case. I used to work there."  
"Oh really?" Zach lead her to what felt like the back end of an open ambulance. She sat down, feeling her way to a safe perch.  
"Yeah. Transferred out after my partner, Mike, propositioned me."  
"Mike?" Carolyn could hear the frown in her rescuer's voice. "Mike Logan? I met him once before I replaced him. Yeah, he seemed alright. He retired." Carolyn nodded.  
"So I heard." Someone came up beside her and dabbed at her face with a damp cloth. A paramedic, Carolyn guessed. The shallow cuts on her face had gone unnoticed until now. They stung, but she could take it; cuts would heal.  
"Y'know, I didn't catch your name."  
"It's Barek. Detective Carolyn Barek, Anti-Terrorism." She almost stuck out her hand to shake, remembering just in time that she had no way of knowing where his hand was, though she could probably make a halfway decent guess based on his height, about six three if the way she could feel him ducking under a beam was any indication. The paramedic shined a light in her eyes, testing her pupil's reaction. Nothing. Carolyn Barek was blind.

Megan Wheeler watched as the daycare employee read to her daughter's class with the exuberance of a small puppy, Katie's naturally frog-like voice croaking out The Frog Prince. 'How appropriate,' she thought. 'except my frog prince turned into a toad.' From the next building over megan heard a loud bang. The children in her daughter's class turned towards the noise and began to whimper. Katie tried to reassure the class when the teacher came rushing in, her face red from running up the stairs.  
"Call the parents," she ordered Katie. "the mayor's ordered everyone to get out of the city." Megan stood.  
"When was this?" she asked, showing Ms Darbinian her detective's badge.  
"A few minutes ago." she replied. To her assistant, she said. "Now, Katie. Please." Katie made one more futile attempt at calming her class before running to the daycare phone book.  
"What'd the mayor say's happening?"  
"We're being attacked." Megan gave her an incredulous look.  
"By who?" Ms Darbinian shook her head, tears welling up in her kind, brown eyes.  
"They don't know. Nobody does."


	2. Avengers Assemble

Carolyn's sight was clearing by the minute. Now, a mere few hours after she had been struck on the head she could make out some of the features of her rescuer- tall, with large brown eyes and hair to match. Detective Nichols- Zach, he had told her to call him- had driven her home to her apartment. The strangest thing about what was happening was that every time he touched her, her vision became clearer and clearer, almost as if he was healing her on purpose. It was a ridiculous notion: no one could heal solely by touch. And yet...

She shook that thought away before it could take over. In the distance she could hear her cell phone ring. Carolyn got up and felt her way to the kitchen counter.

"Hello?"

"It's me." Carolyn leaned on the counter for support. It was Bobby.

"What's up?" she tried to sound casual, but panic refused to lessen completely. She had told her coworker only to call this number in the event of an emergency. Clearly, the complete destruction of New York qualified.

"Where are you?"

"My apartment. My building collapsed, I got a concussion and my retinas detached. You?"

"Just outside the city. Is anyone with you?"

"Zach Nichols. He says he works with Major Case. Is he a friend of yours?"

"We work together sometimes. Ask him to call his partner, Serena Stevens. Also, see if he can find his previous partner, Megan Wheeler. She transferred after she had a baby."

"Oh." said Carolyn. "Are you getting everyone together?"

"Yeah, it's it's... important. Look, can you put Nichols on the phone?" Carolyn turned to see that very man standing in the doorway, listening to her half of the conversation. When she spotted him he had the decency to duck his head in embarrassment.

"I, uh, don't mean to eavesdrop, I just, ah..."

"Goren wants to talk to you." she interrupted, handing over the phone. He took it, surprised at the older detective's seemingly impeccable timing.

"Hello?"

Across town, Mike was standing near what used to be the local precinct. _'Now what?'_ he thought. His cell phone rang at that moment, the theme to _Newhart_ jingling merrily in his pocket. He answered.

"Logan."

Mike, it's Carolyn. Carolyn Barek." the former detective stood up a little straighter. _'Barek? What was doing calling me now?'_

"Barek? What's up? How've ya been? I heard you got transferred to Anti-Terrorism building. Nice gig. Ya got any excitement lately? I..."

"Logan." she snapped. "I'm going to give you an address. Go there as soon as possible. It's out in the country, so I hope you have access to a car." the woman at the other end sighed. "Anti-Terrorism got knocked down. I got a knock on the head and my retinas detached. I'm fine now."

"What?! Barek, ya gotta get yerself to a hospital! Where are you, I'll pick ya up."

"I'm at my apartment. They reattached on their own, but my vision's still a little blurry."

"Wha...? How...?"

"Just go. The cabin's at..." She gave an address right out of the Bronx, barely a mile outside the city. Mike could get there, but he wasn't completely sure why.

"Carolyn..." he began.

"Trust me, okay? And see if you can find your old partner, what's her name, Fontana, Falconi...?"

"Falacci. She's with the FBI now, but I'll see what I can do."

"Great." she hung up. Mike stared at his phone for a few moments afterward, thinking. _'I have a bad feeling about this.'_


	3. Mother Knows Best

They met at the cabin, six of them in all: Bobby, Alex, Mike, Carolyn, Zach, and Megan, who'd left her daughter with her grandmother in New Rochelle to escape the bombing. Mike Logan had already taken one look at Alex's pregnant belly and said, "I wondered when you and Bobby were going to hook up." This evoked a glare from the pregnant woman and flabbergasted stuttering from her partner.

As it turned out, Nola Falacci had been in Oregon that day and thus had her own problems to deal with out in Seattle. As for Zach's partner Serena, they had heard she had been found underneath a pile of rubble on the Lower East Side. Her daughter had already gone to live with her father for the week, a now permanent solution. Zach stood by the fireplace, still in shock by his partner's death. He'd never really met Kira, but he had gotten to know her mother pretty well. It was a senseless loss, yet somehow he knew that he had to go on, for Serena's sake.

After the initial flurry of reunions and introductions, Carolyn stood up and coughed for attention. She got it only after Bobby managed to quiet everyone down long enough for her to begin speaking.

"I think we all know why we're here, so I'll just start. Attacks are taking place all over the world. Major cities are being attacked and no one knows why. Here's what we need to do: figure out who's doing this and stop it."

"Shouldn't the FBI be involved?" shouted Mike.

"The local office was one of the buildings that came down in the first wave." This drew a series of whispers from the group. "I hate to sound cliché, but it's up to us to figure it out. Communications to outside the city have been cut. We're on our own, so I can start taking suggestions." Carolyn got off the chair she'd been standing on. "I know a place," Zach began reluctantly. "it's not far from here, but... I know the owner. She could help us."

Everyone was silent for a long moment. At last, Carolyn spoke up. "Who is she?" Zach shrugged. "She calls herself Sophia. Sophia Nichols." The lanky detective lead them to a debilitated building in Staten Island. The stairs he guided them down were rickety and dank. Alex worried, briefly, whether her coworker and friend had finally lost his mind. At last, the stairs ended at an ornate wooden door with a silver knob. Zach put his thumb to the centre of the knob. The door clicked and opened. What the detectives found was completely contrary to what they had been lead to believe by the door's surroundings. On either side of the aisle exotic tents were set up, in various shades of purple. Inside lay nearly every type of fantastical creature any of the detectives had heard of, and then some. A female satyr lay in the tent closest to the door, too wrapped up in the attractive young pisky boys who were giving her what looked like an elaborate lap dance-slash-strip tease. "Your mother owns a strip joint? I thought she was a psychologist." said Mike. Zach gave him a dirty look. "Not exactly. She only does this so she can record the various types of, ah, stimuli that can affect different... different..." the detective trailed off, at a loss for words. "Species?" Carolyn supplied. "Which are you?" Zach was silent for a long time. Just when Carolyn thought she had offended him somehow, he whispered, "Human, or at least my father is. Mother... you'll- you'll meet her in a few moments. Besides, she has a Park Avenue practise during the week. This is just a little side project." They made their way through the rows of canopies, the smokey atmosphere making it hard to discern where they were going. Finally, they came to a curtained doorway. Zach took a moment to straighten his tie and run his hand through his hair. Then he entered the private room, the rest of the detectives following suit. They were greeted by the sight of a blonde woman sitting in an expensive-looking armchair, a pair of elven servants laying out what seemed to be Mrs Dr Nichols's supper. Looking at the woman, it wasn't hard to see why her sons felt just as much fear for her as they did love. Her wavy locks flowed over her pale shoulders like an ice-cold waterfall. Her eyes looked like miniature pools of ink from an octopus, from corner to corner they were entirely black. This gave her face an inherently unnerving quality. The hair on Bobby's neck stood on end, as did nearly everyone else's. "Mother," Zach said apprehensively. "I- we need your help." "How so, my son?" she asked. Her voice was like liquid silver, cold and beautiful all at the same time. "Gentlemen," she said to her companions. "bring some food and drink for my son and his guests." They bowed and left through a servants' entrance. She turned back to the group and approached her son. She reached up and kissed him on either cheek. "You look well, my son! Have you yet found someone special?" she said, eying each woman in the group. She paused for a moment on Alex's swollen belly. Sensing her gaze, the detective took her partner's hand and shuffled closer. Zach blushed and stepped between his mother and his friend. "No, Mother. Not yet." His mother gave a small half-smile. "Hm. You're avoiding the question." she turned and sat back down in her chair. The two servants reappeared from wherever they'd gone laden with a tray heaped with a variety of fruits, pastas, breads and fine meats, as well as seven glasses of spiced wine, which the servants handed to each detective. Alex politely declined a drink, though Zach could practically feel the hunger coming off of her in waves. "Mother, can we please stick to the, uh, topic at hand?" His mother smiled and reached for a roll to pass to the pregnant detective. Zach put his hand on hers, preventing it. "I hope these are human foods." His mother smirked.

"Don't worry, my son, I know better." She shook off his hand and passed the roll. Alex devoured it, though a bit apprehensive due to what Zach had said about it being "human" food. She had read her share of fairy tales when she was young, and knew perfectly well what certain foods could do when they had been served by a fairy, which it was becoming clearer and clearer Mrs Dr Nichols was.

"Mom, we need to know if you've heard anything about these attacks."

"Ma'am the entire city could be at stake." Mike interjected. "Whatever info you give us will convince us not to order a drug raid on this place when this is all over." Zach gave the other detective a reproachful look. Mike shrugged. "Sorry, buddy. I smelled weed and opium when we first came in." Zach's mother surprised them by laughing, a full, hearty laugh that drew tears from her eyes. When she stopped, she explained to the puzzled detectives,

"Your narcotics unit has had their eye on this place for years! Not to mention that silly group of prudes you call a "Vice" unit!" At this, Alex stiffened. Five years in that unit had not been in vain: she'd put away plenty of heads of exploitative prostitution rings, not to mention the time she'd done wearing a tight mini-skirt and halter to attract johns.

"Look, maybe this was a bad idea, Mom." Zach said, standing up. "If the only thing you're going to do is belittle me and my coworkers, then I- I- I- I'm sorry I even came!" He turned to leave, but the two elf servants blocked his way.

"I never said I didn't respect your work, my son." his mother said softly. She glanced at his companions, who were either looking away awkwardly or watching with great interest at the family drama. "I won't embarrass you in front of your coworkers, for whom I have a great respect." Zach turned back to his mother. "I've many wonderful things about them. All of them." She looked her son straight in the eye. "What do you need to know?"


	4. Pixies and Demons and Trolls, Oh My!

"Mother, you know a lot of people in New York, especially... fairy people." Zach began, a bit hesitantly. Mrs Dr Nichols scoffed.

"There's no need for exposition, my son. I can smell fairy blood in many of your companions, though it's mostly... diluted." Bobby tilted his head at this, as did his partner. He filed the information away as something to investigate later.

"Huh. Anyway, do you know anyone who would, ah, order these attacks. They're happening all over the country."

"So I heard." She stood up and placed a few more pieces of wood on the fireplace. Sparks rose from the ashes and Carolyn wondered briefly where the smoke came out of the chimney that rose from the burning logs like a castle spire. "There's one person- an eleionoma- who might have both the resources and the malice to pull this off."

"What's an eleionoma?" Alex asked bluntly. Mrs Dr Nichols stiffened.

"It's a- a swamp nymph," Zach explained. "like a dryad, but they, uh, stink to high heaven." His mother nodded her approval.

"So you haven't forgotten everything during your time in the human world." she said smugly.

"Mom, please-" he started to reproach. Bobby stepped in to save his college from embarrassment.

"Could you, ah, tell us what types of fairy you smell on us? Cause as far as I know... I'm human, Doctor-"

"Sophia." she interrupted. "Please. And I'd be happy to." She moved to the detective closest to her. "You, my dear," she said to Mike. "smell very strongly of werewolf." she laughed with she saw the ex-cop's eyebrows shoot for the sky. "No, not the movie kind, with a hideous transformation, uncontrollable bloodlust and shorts that magically stay intact during the night of the full moon." she looked him over, but appeared against embarrassing her already blushing offspring with a suggestive comment about the loss of shorts not necessarily being a bad thing in Mike's case. She moved to the next person in the group. "And you, Detective Wheeler," the redhead raised an eyebrow. "my son described you to me when you first met- in very flattering terms, I promise- have a very strong chance of being the descendent of a pisky woman and her mate.

"Pisky?" asked Megan dumbly.

"Though human culture has mutated the word to pixie. Not quite as small as popular culture would lead you to believe- although they do have usable wings." At this Megan gave a brief smile. She'd always wanted wings when she was little. Now she knew why. "You, madam," Sophia addressed Carolyn. "are many parts djinn, mutated to genie in American culture." Mike began humming the theme to _I Dream of Jeannie_ under his breath. Carolyn jabbed him with her elbow while Sophia looked on and laughed. "Ah, to be young- now, Detective Alex here," she said, gesturing to the detective in question. Her husband put his arm around her and pulled her a little closer. "is part nekomata."

"I'm sorry?" she said, sounding offended. Sophia shrugged.

"A shapeshifting cat. Very clever, yet fiercely independent." Bobby gave his wife a sidelong glance. "Very clever, yet fiercely independent" was her in a nutshell. And your, ah... significant other appears to be descended from at least one troll. I can sense your latent empathic abilities. It does you much good in an interview, I'd imagine." she watched the bulky detective digest this information with fascinated glee. "I'm afraid that many fantasy novels have distorted the truth about this lovely species. They do not turn to stone in daylight, nor are they made completely of rock. They are a peaceful people, gentle, but prone to outbursts of temper. I suggest you seek the Scandinavian myths about trolls- they seem to have most details about this species correctly."

After a moment of silence, Zach cleared his throat. Six heads turned towards the source of the sound. "Mom?"

"Yes, my son?"

"Do you know where we can find this eleionoma you think can pull this off?" Sophia took a final sip of wine and set the glass down on a side table.

"Ah, yes! Here, let me give you his information..." She produced a piece of paper and pen from out of nowhere and scribbled down a name and address. She gave it to her youngest son, saying, "I do wish you'd stop by more often, my son. I do so enjoy your company."

"Thanks, Mother. I'll see what I can do."

When they got outside, Bobby pulled out his cell phone and flipped through his contacts.

"You really don't think the cell towers are still up, do you?" his wife inquired. Bobby merely scratched the side of his face and pressed a button. He put his phone up to his ear and frowned.

"We need to find Captain Hannah."

"Why?" asked Mike. "I don't think he'll believe our story about pixies and demons and trolls, oh my." He turned to Zach. "No offense."

Zach shrugged.

"No, I think it's, ah, a good idea to get the new captain involved. He's not- not that bad of a guy, yeah, he might be useful."

"Then we're agreed." said Megan. "Let's find the new guy."


	5. One Small Step

When the bombing started, Captain Joseph Hannah was finishing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. 'Five down, thirtieth US president. Hmmm...' Just as he was filling in the final letter on _Coolidge_ there was an explosion coming from down the street. He rose out of his chair, puzzle forgotten, and went to the window along with his grandson who was playing on the floor next to him.

"G'pa," asked the little one. "What's going on?"

"I'm gonna find out, little guy. But let's call your mommy and daddy first."

The call never made it through. When the blast came, all that was left was a child's toy truck and the name of a dead man etched in the corner of a crossword puzzle.

_At the beginning of the universe there were two equal but opposing forces: Light and Shadow, tempered by the true element of Spirit. In time, Light and Shadow each split off two lesser elements, Light gave birth to Earth and Fire, while Shadow gave birth to Air and Water. Each element had a single, genderless entity to guard over them, a Creature to fight for their place in life. When humanity was created the Creatures became fascinated with these new beings. They then took human form and became enamored, giving rise to all of the Fairy races._

"Okay, who else can we call?"

"Who else is nearby that we know? Major Case has a lot of people in it, not just us."

"Speak for yourself. Some of us aren't with Major Case anymore."

"And some of us retired."

"Still, we have to stick together. It's our only chance of survival."

"I think you watch too much sci-fi."

"You got any other ideas?"

"..."

"Thought so."

"Where'd Carver go?"

"Illinois. Family crisis."

"Bishop."

"No."

"No?"

"I don't know where she is, a- and frankly?"

"I think she's in England for a seminar."

"You kept in touch?"

"No. I saw her name on a list in 1PP."

"Oh. Deakins?"

"Texas."

"Callas?"

"She went to Des Moines, last I heard."

"Iowa?"

"No, Des Moines, South Africa."

"There's a Des Moines in South Africa?"

"No."

"Is there anyone else?"

"I don't think so."

"Goddammit."


	6. A Little Touch of Heavenly Light

They were nearing the turnoff to go back to the city when Zach's cell phone began ringing.

"Hello?" Listening, his expression grew more and more panicked. "Mom? Mom, slow down." Eames looked in the rear view mirror at her colleague.

"What's wrong?" Zach didn't answer for a few moments after he hung up.

"Detective, are you planning to tell the rest of the class what's going on?" asked Mike. Zach took a deep breath before answering.

"This is very bad." he finally said. His voice had gotten very quiet, his hands were now shaking imperceptibly.

"Ya think?" Zach nodded.

"Oh, yeah. Very."

"And?" Carolyn furrowed her eyebrows.

"It's not a Fairy attack."

"Okay." said Megan. "What is it?"

"Nothing we've ever seen."

"Aliens?" suggested Alex from the driver's seat. Mike scoffed.

"No such thing."

"An hour ago you didn't think fairies existed." Carolyn pointed out. Mike appeared to concede with the smaller detective, but stood his ground.

"Look, I'm gonna need some proof if I'm gonna believe in aliens." At that very moment, something small and round hit the hood of the van. Alex slammed on the brakes, causing her passengers to brace themselves against their seats and each other.

"What the hell was that?" hollered Mike.

"The brakes." said Alex. The other detective glared at her. Bobby unbuckled his seat belt, eager not to get in the middle of a row between two of the most stubborn personalities in the NYPD. "Bobby, where-? Oh, forget it." She undid her own seat belt, sending one last dirty look to Mike. She then went to join her husband in the inspection of the thing that attacked their car.

"It's a, uh..." He circled the object, pulling on the rubber gloves he had retrieved from the glove compartment. "It looks like it's made of some sort of poly..." He made another circuit. "Polyurethane."

"Polyurethane?" echoed Mike, joining them along with the rest of the group.

"Isn't that what the NSA uses to cover their space shuttles?" asked Zach.

"I think so..." said Bobby. He picked it up, examining it from all sides. There was what appeared to be a button on one spot on the orb. "What would...?" he wondered before pressing it experimentally. The ball began glowing greenish-blue. Bobby dropped it back on the ground and retreated backwards.

"Bobby! What did you do?" yelled Alex. The ball appeared to be considering its options. Finally it glowed even brighter before releasing a shock wave. The last thing Alex thought before losing consciousness was _'Why does he always have to be so impulsive?'_


	7. Joy and Misery

When Bobby came to, his head was aching like half a dozen of his worst hangovers all at once. He tried to lift his head. A jolt of pain shot up his spine, ending in his aching cranium. Lying back down, Bobby tried to block out the pain enough to open his eyes. He was in a white room, lying on a bed with his wrists confined via leather straps. Upon further experimentation, so were his ankles. He turned his head, ignoring the pain in his neck. On the cot next to him lay Alex, his Alex, still asleep with the same leather restraints around her wrists and ankles. The slight swell of her belly was made even more obvious by her prostrate position. Bobby's breathing quickened. _'No.'_ he reminded himself. _'Don't panic. Find the rest of us. Get the hell out of these restraints.'_ From across the room he could hear swearing. _'Mike's awake. That's a good thing.'_

As the pain subsided he was able to take better inventory of his physical condition. He flexed his fingers and toes to make sure they were still all there. _'There's something wrong...' _Now that the pain was lessening, Bobby could lift his head to look at his extremities. A wave of panic washed over him when he counted the number of fingers.

He was missing one. Two actually, the pinkie finger on each hand. The strangest thing about it, though, was that it appeared as though he has never had five digits in the first place. If it weren't for the fact that humans had that particular number, Bobby's hands would have looked like a perfectly normal, functional hand. In fact, his new hands _were_ perfectly functional, as far as he could tell. Each finger could bend as they ought, and he could still grip the edge of his cot as he could with four fingers as he could with five.

In the next bed over Alex had finally woken up. She was in full survival mode, which was no surprise, thanks to her experience with Jo Gage.

"Alex? Alex!" Bobby called to her. She turned her head, eyes wild with panic and fear. Bobby's own eyes widened; her pupils were now looked like those of a wild cat, slitted and spring green.

"Bobby," she said breathlessly. "what the hell's going on?" her voice cracked on the last syllable. She looked down. "What's wrong with your hands?"

"I don't know. Please, try to calm yourself. We've been in worse scrapes than this." She gave him the deadliest glare she could muster.

"Name one!" She sighed and turned her head back towards the ceiling. She could smell everything in the room, from her husband's cologne to a faint swamp-like smell coming from the hall leading to the room where they were being held captive. Sounds as well, seem to have gotten sharper since she awoke. There was a mouse in the wall behind her. She was overcome with an overwhelming urge to capture and eat it. It certainly didn't help that she hadn't eaten since lunchtime. Alex ran her tongue over her teeth. She started to recall the conversation they'd had with Zach's mother.

_'"Now, Detective Alex here is part nekomata."_

_"__I'm sorry?"_

_"__A shapeshifting cat. Very clever, yet fiercely independent."'_

It was impossible. It was the only explanation.

"Bobby?" she asked hesitantly.

"Hm?"

"Remember what Sophia Nichols said? About... us?"

"You think that alien ball turned us...?" Alex closed her eyes and groaned. "Do you feel alright?" he asked, worried.

"Like I've been hit with a pair of bowling balls." she replied. "A lot of them."

"How's the baby?" Alex smiled for the first time since she woke up.

"I think she's fine." Bobby smiled back, grateful that she had calmed down.

"She?" he asked playfully. Alex nodded. "You know for certain?"

"I have a gut feeling."

"Ah, your 'women's intuition' at work?"

"Something like that." They were quiet for a few long moments.

"Bobby?"

"Hm?"

"What if it _is_ a boy?"

"Sorry?"

"I know you never really..."

"...had a father figure who wasn't nuts?"

"Bobby, I-"

"It's okay, it's okay. I- I think I'll be okay if it's boy. I'd just do whatever my father didn't do." They strained the edge of their restraints reaching for each other. His fingers only barely brushed hers, but even that brief, physical contact was enough. _'We'll get through this, Bobby,'_ Alex thought._ 'We always do.'_


	8. The Doctor is In(sane)

The first thing Megan made out was a beeping sound coming from nearby. She focused on that sound, grabbed a hold of it until she felt the pain in her head recede enough for her to open her eyes. A room, painted pure white, down to the cot she was strapped to. _'My shoulders hurt.'_ she thought sluggishly. She did her best to rotate the offending joints. _'There's something on my back.'_ She lifted her head and looked around. On a cot next to her was Mike Logan, who was already awake and swearing up a storm.

"Goddammit! Son of a bitch! Fucker! Shitting little-!" Megan groaned. Mike turned his head sharply towards his ex-partner. "Wheeler? You're awake! It's about time two! How're you feeling?"

"Ow." she croaked. Mike snarled and lay back down.

"I'm gonna kill Bobby."

"Mm"

"Then I'm gonna kill whoever the fuck put us in these fucking straps."

"Mm" Megan had stopped paying attention.

"Then I'm gonna run away to Hawaii and become a hula dancer." Megan smiled, picturing.

"Mm!"

"Pervert." They were both silent for a long while, with only an occasion grunt from Mike as he tried (and failed) to release the straps holding him down. His entire body ached from head to toe. Even the sound seemed to be amplified, and the smell of ammonia present in the room was driving him up the wall. Suddenly he heard footsteps. "Megan."

"Yeah?"

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Footsteps." The redheaded detective was all ears. She strained to pick out the sound her ex-partner was talking about.

"I don't hear anything!"

"_Listen!"_ As the footsteps got closer, Megan's face began to change.

"Wait. Now I hear it, but it's still really faint." She gave him a puzzled look. "How did you-?" Mike scoffed.

"I dunno. Look, whoever it is is right outside the door."

"Play dead?"

"Something like that." The detectives lay down their heads and closed their eyes. The person came into the room and walked straight up to the younger detective. _'A woman, mid-thirties.'_ guessed Megan. _'Vanilla scented perfume and high heels. Six inches.'_

"I know you are awake, Detective Wheeler." said the woman. _'Scandinavian accent.'_ Megan added to her list of observations. "Please open your eyes and we can get started with the exam." After a moment, Megan did as she asked. The woman was only about three and a half feet tall, with bristly gray hair and a rounded face. "If you would tell Detective Logan that it is in his interest to cooperate as well, that would be quite lovely." Megan glared at the woman even as she extended the reach on the detective's restraints. Megan sat up and flexed her shoulders. _'Still something wrong...'_

"Logan, please."

"Traitor." Mike growled. He opened his eyes anyway and glared at the attendant. "Who the hell are you?" The woman merely smiled.

"My name is Doctor Jarvinen. You two are part of a great experiment!"

"WHAT?!" hollered Mike. "What the fuck did you do to us?!" Doctor Jarvinen puckered her mouth, the first sign Megan had seen of malcontent.

"Is he always like this?" she asked the younger detective.

"Yes." she replied. Doctor Jarvinen frowned and scribbled something down on her clipboard.

"I see." Mike snarled. His brown hair became shaggy and began to spread to his face and neck. Megan's eyes widened. _'"You, my dear, smell very strongly of werewolf. No, not the movie kind, with a hideous transformation, uncontrollable blood lust and shorts that magically stay intact during the night of the full moon."'_ The conversation with Zach's mother suddenly made sense. She remembered her shoulders. _'Pisky, she called it.'_ She reached over her shoulders. Sure enough, two papery wings jutted out of her back. They even fluttered when she tried to move them. Megan repressed a grin. _'Wings!'_

"I see you are enjoying your new form." said Doctor Jarvinen. "We believe that it has always been your true form. It took our serum to make your inside out." Megan snapped to attention.

"What serum? Who's your employer? What did you do to us?"

"All in good time, Detective. Good day." she started for the door.

"Hey, wait a minute!" hollered Mike. "Aren't ya gonna tell us what's goin' on?"

"Nope!" said Doctor Jarvinen as she closed the door on the two detectives. Mike swore loudly as the lock clicked into place. A white mist began to creep in through the ventilation.

"Uh, Logan?"

"Hm?" She pointed to the gas.

"Oh fuck!" It was the last thing he said before the world faded to black.


	9. Warning Bells

Zach Nichols awoke in a white room. The walls, the furniture (such as it was), the floor, everything was a dazzling shade of ice. Everything hurt. When he tried to move his limbs he found himself restrained with leather strips. He glanced over to his right. There was Carolyn, lying on the exact same kind of cot that he was, with a matching set of restraints. He called her name. Her eyes opened briefly. Her hands clenched and unclenched.

"Zach?" she whispered. Zach's stomach did a cartwheel.

"I'm right here. How do you feel?"

"Terrible." Zach felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

"Same here. I think I know where we are." That brought Carolyn fully out of the haze brought on by the sonic blast.

"Where?"

"A, uh... medical facility. One that, ah, belongs to..." He squirmed a little. His next words were equal parts fear and veneration. "the Erlking."

"What?" asked Carolyn.

"He's an extremist. Very concerned about 'racial purity.' He doesn't like... mixing between Fae and humanity."

"People like you." Carolyn inferred. The lanky detective nodded.

"Yeah." he whispered. "People like me."

The door opened. In stepped an elegant, redheaded woman with clawed fingers and three fox tails coming out from under her lab coat. _'A kitsune.'_ Zach thought immediately.

"Hello, detectives. It's so nice to see you two awake." said the fox. Her Irish accent came as a surprise to Carolyn; she'd always thought kitsunes were a Japanese phenomenon. "My name is Doctor Breen. Now, seeing as you're more Fae than your companions, Detective Nichols, I'll begin your examination first." The kitsune shined a light in Zach's face. He closed them and turned away. Doctor Breen sighed. "Very well. We have your scans. I just wanted to get to see you in person." she headed towards the door.

"Wait!" called Carolyn. Doctor Breen paused. "I thought kitsunes were Japanese." The fairy woman walked back to stand by the smaller detective's bedside.

"You've done your homework." Carolyn shrugged the best she could.

"I read a lot when I was a kid. Anything I could get my hands on." Doctor Breen nodded.

"Djinni are known for their curiosity. They hoard knowledge like dragons hoard treasure."

"Dragons are real?" A lightbulb finally went off in Zach's head. If Carolyn could stall the doctor long enough, he was almost certain he could work his way out of his restraints. He set to work.

"Oh yes! Wyverns, too!"

"Aren't they just really small dragons?"

"Oh, that's one difference..." A few minutes later he'd undone the straps around his wrists. He quickly set about taking care of the ones attached to his ankles. Meanwhile, Doctor Breen was still lecturing his colleague on the various reptillian fairies wandering the Earth.

"...for example, a chitauli is a type of bipedal lizard, and their cousin, the cherufe, is more humanoid in appearance. Additionally, they live much closer to volcanoes, whereas cherufe..." she never finished her sentence. The lanky detective raced behind her, faster than any human could achieve, and put her in a vicious choke hold. Doctor Breen clawed at his arm, the scratches she left healing almost as soon as she could make them.

"You've got one chance to tell me where my friends are." he ordered. He loosened his grip only enough to allow her to squeak,

"Room to the left and right of you... half-breed." Zach tightened his grip even further, ignoring the creaking sounds coming from her neck.

"Detective Nichols..." warned Carolyn. "Zach..." Upon hearing his name, Zach released the doctor, rushing over to his companion to undo her restraints. When she was free, Carolyn grabbed his shoulders.

"What?" he asked indignantly.

"You were going to kill her." she accused. Zach was silent. Finally he turned away and walked out the door. A moment later he stuck his head back in the room.

"You coming?"


	10. Strength in Numbers

It was all Alex could do to keep breathing. The brief respite provided by her and Bobby's conversation about their unborn child was just that: brief. She kept remembering the handcuffs Jo Gage had put on her, the screams of the woman being tortured on the other side of a flimsy curtain, the acrid smell of piss that permeated the basement she had been kept in. _'Breathe in, breathe out.'_ she kept reminding herself.

"Alex?" came her husband's voice from the next bed over. She turned to face him. His warm brown eyes practically overflowed with concern. "Honey? It's okay. I'm right here." He wriggled himself in the cot, trying to wheel it closer to the love of his life. Eventually, he managed to get close enough to take her delicate hand in his big one. Even the changes that had taken over his bulky form didn't seem to repulse her.

The last of the numbness that had affected the older detective was finally beginning to subside. Bobby could now feel a strange sensation coming out of his backside. It was as though he'd grown an extra limb. But that was impossible... wasn't it? He tried to move the phantom limb.

It wasn't a phantom.

"Alex?"

"Hm?

"I think... I think I have a tail." His wife glanced under the cot. Her shocked expression gave him all the answers he needed. He grinned. "I have a tail. Cool!" Alex rolled her eyes. Even at fifty-one years old he still acted like a little kid when it came to some things. He lifted it up to his line of sight. "Ooh! It's got a little..." He played with the tip. "a little floof at the end. Like a, ah... a lion's tail. Y'see?" He tried to tickle his wife's cheek, only to smack her in the nose. "Oh! Sorry, Alex, I, ah... think I need to practice." Alex nodded.

"Indeed." came a voice from the doorway. Bobby and Alex looked forward to see a graceful looking woman with dark blue skin that sparkled when she moved under the florescent lights. "My name is Doctor Faure. If you cooperate, you'll both be able to lose the restraints." The smaller detective's ears perked up at that prospect, but she tried to stay calm.

"Aren't you worried we'll escape?" Doctor Faure laughed.

"I doubt you'll be able to overpower me. I may look delicate, but pleiades are nearly indestructible."

"Pleiades, now that's... Greek, correct?" asked Goren. The doctor gave a sly grin.

"The word is, yes."

"But your name... it's, ah... French."

"Yes. Fairies can look like any human ethnicity, no matter what country the name of their species came from." The larger detective seemed satisfied by this response.

"If it means getting my wife out of these restraints... then we'll cooperate." Doctor Faure moved to unlock Alex's cuffs first.

"He only mentioned you getting out of the restraints. How kind of him." Alex smiled at the fairy woman.

"I had a bad experience." Doctor moved to free her husband. As soon as his ankles were unlocked Bobby got up off the cot and put the doctor in a headlock.

"Which way out?" asked Alex. Doctor Faure pointed to the door where she entered and motioned to the left.

"'Nearly indestructible,' huh?" commented Bobby. "I guess fairies _can_ lie!" He left her choking on the floor as he and his wife swept out the door, almost cutting off Bobby's new tail in the process. "Gonna have to get used to that." he muttered. "Instinct must be helpin' me... keep my balance." Alex looked up at him.

"It must be." Bobby paused for a moment as he realized something.

"Alex?"

"Hm?"

"Are you purring?" His wife merely smiled and reached up to kiss her husband.

"Instinct." They both automatically reached for their nonexistent guns as they heard a sound coming from down the hall.

"Another doctor?" asked Alex.

"Could be." replied her husband. They crept up cautiously, then relaxed as they saw who it was.

"Evening, detectives." Zach greeted them nonchalantly. Carolyn was right behind him, glancing backward occasionally to make sure they weren't being followed.

"We should find Logan and Wheeler." she suggested. "Nichols and I developed a working theory as to..." she trailed off when she noticed Bobby's new look. "...what happened."

"Mom was right." commented Zach. "How are you dealing with the tail?" Bobby shrugged.

"Alright, I guess. Haven't lost my, ah... my balance yet, so ah... that's a good thing."

"If you guys are done chatting, I think Barek's found Logan and Wheeler." The detectives crowded around a door that almost blended into the wall. "Somebody's got a thing for white."

"Makes sense... if this is a medical facility." Bobby backed up, intending to break down the door. A solid thump from his shoulder was all that was needed to break the lock. Logan and Wheeler were there, alright, passed out on their respective beds. The detectives made short work of their restraints, with Bobby volunteering to carry both of the unconscious pair.

"Bobby, I'm kinda hoping that our kid will actually _have_ a father!"

"I'm fine, Alex. In fact I feel better than I have in a... a long time." his wife sighed.

"Alright, now we need to find a way out of here and soon. That escape was way too easy; I think they're testing us, not letting us go. Any suggestions?" Zach raised his hand.

"I've been in places like this before. I think the exit is..." He ran off in the direction Bobby and Alex had just come from. "this way!" he hollered. Alex looked at her husband, a smug look on her face.

"You were right." she informed him. "Fairies can lie."


	11. That Has Such Creatures in It

At last they came to a door unlike all the others, made of the finest oak paneling with an elaborate brass doorknob. Bobby pushed to the front of the group and tried the doorknob. It opened with a creak.

"I have a bad feeling about this." whispered Zach. "Fairies are possessive, they wouldn't let their prisoners go this easy."

"Duly noted." said Alex. "Let's get outta here."

When they stepped through the doorway they found themselves right where they started. The van was sitting just where they'd left it, keys in the ignition. Alex slipped into the driver's seat and tested the engine. It roared to life as if it had only been turned off moments before.

"We should get probably leave before they find us again." said Mike. Alex nodded.

"Everyone get in the car." They obeyed, Bobby calling shotgun beside his wife.

"Alex?" he whispered when they were finally heading back to the cabin. The woods were peaceful this time of year, neither in full flower of summer, nor yet in the deathly grip of winter. The orange and red leaves on the trees fluttered in the evening wind. They made Alex think of the coming snow, when the entire northeast would be covered in frost. "Do you think... the change affected the baby?" His wife was quiet for a long moment.

"Probably." she said softly. "We'll talk about it when we get back to the cabin." the full force of what had happened over the past few days was beginning to hit the blonde detective. Bobby turned away to stare out the window. He was silent for the rest of the trip.

When they got to the cabin most of the detectives went straight to bed, exhausted by the bombing and the physical changes that had taken place. A few, namely Mike and Zach chose to stay up just a little bit longer for a nightcap. When the Goren-Eameses fell into bed they were far too tired to do anything but huddle under the blankets.

"Bobby?" she whispered when they were settled.

"Hm?"

"I think the baby's going to be fine. I just wish I could get an ultrasound so we could be sure."

"Yeah. We were supposed to get one on Sunday, right?" He felt Alex nod against his chest.

"At the doctor's office on 54th Street. Doctor Pierno helped me when I was pregnant with Nathan." Bobby leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

"We'll get through this, Alex. Corny as it sounds... as long as we can be together... life is perfect." Alex smiled and looked up at her husband, studying his face.

"You look good, Bobby. This baby's gonna be good for you. For both of us." she stroked his chest and kissed him. "Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow's a new day."

Meanwhile, the attacks on New York and, indeed, the rest of the world had stopped. No bomb had gone off in New York city for nearly twelve and a half hours. What had happened was a revelation: a mysterious fog had eloped the world, transforming nearly two-thirds of it's inhabitants into equally strange creatures, beasts from myth and folklore, giving them powers seen only in fantasy and science fiction. It was a new world with new challenges, and it was up to the inhabitants to make the best of it.


	12. Interlude-- Snowed In

Mike Logan

Every good story should start on a beach. This one starts in five feet of snow on a day cold enough to freeze the nuts off a squirrel. It was late January, and we were snowed in. Bobby and Alex seemed okay- they were getting ready for the baby who was due sometime in June, and Zach was determined to reread the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy by March, but only one day into our imprisonment and I was already going stir crazy. I tried to keep busy, I swear! The cabin had been left to Alex by her mother when she'd passed away last May. It was surprisingly big: it had a small library, two bathrooms, a kitchen and three decent sized bedrooms. Alex and Bobby had the master bedroom, Carolyn took the single in the back, and I shared a room with Zachary "my goal in life to be the strangest police officer in the history of forever" Nichols. Megan had done the smart thing and went to live with her mom and kid after we escaped from that freaky medical facility. We still don't know what the hell that was about. None of us do. Before we got snowed in we took turns driving to the city to check up on the rebuilding process. The final death toll was estimated to be about half the population. As it turned out, two thirds of everyone else was magically transformed into some kind of mythical creature. Speaking of which, being a werewolf wasn't that bad. The first full moon was a little tough, but I got through it. My roommate was actually pretty helpful; he was the only one with any experience in that area.

"The first transformation is always the hardest." Zach told me. "At least, that's what I've heard from my theriathrope buddies."

"Ther-what-what?"

"Therianthrope. Shapeshifter. Werebeast. Whatever you want to call them."

"Ooookay."

"You'll want to transform outside- that's, ah... so you don't knock anything over. Mass translates directly, so you'll probably be about..." he trailed off and raised his hand a few feet off the floor.

"What the hell are you implying?" I asked. Zach's big buggy eyes got even buggier.

"Nothing! I'm not... implying anything!"

"Alright, alright, calm down. Anything else do I need to know?"

"Leave a bathrobe on the porch."

Alex Eames

I am going to kill Mike Logan. He's been driving us all crazy with his cabin fever. Some days I wonder why Bobby doesn't just toss him out the window into the snow. He could handle it. Zach told us that werewolves and the like can change whenever they want to, but during a full moon it's not a choice. Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like if I had married him instead of Bobby. We slept together a few times when we were partners, but I suppose it was Bobby captured my heart. We'd been through so much together, and there had always been an undercurrent of attraction that neither of us could acknowledge until after Bobby retired and I became captain of Major Case. I don't regret marrying him, though. The larger I get the more affectionate he becomes. Most nights I wake up with him curled around my stomach, his large hands resting on my sides.

I don't think Bobby has a lot of good memories of winter. He told me once that Christmas had been a trial instead of a celebration thanks to his mother's schizophrenia. That's gotta change. We managed to have a pretty nice holiday this year, despite the whole "end of the world as we know it" thing. I got Bobby a book I'd bought back in August that he'd had his eye on. _The Little Prince_ by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry was a book he'd remembered from his childhood, one of the few good memories about his mother and the man he'd thought was his father he retained. He practically burst out crying when he unwrapped it Christmas morning. Instead he'd given me an enormous Bobby Goren-style hug and kiss right in front of my sister and her kids.

Sigh. Beautiful or not, the damn snow better melt soon. Logan's not the only one getting bored.

Bobby Goren

Being snowed in was never a good thing when I was a child. Any reprieve from my mother's illness was a blessing, even if it meant getting shoved in a snow bank on my way there. Still, I can't deny Alex's delight at the snow. And it _is_ beautiful- pure and sparkling like a fresh sheet of paper, unmarked by the pencil marks of snow plows, shovels and people trudging through the cold and frost to get the mail. Like so many other things, it was Alex who helped me appreciate the beauty of winter.

I still can't believe she fell in love with me. It was a long shot. I was quitting the force for good and I wanted to let her know how I felt before I left New York for good. I ended up staying, not only because she'd asked me to marry her. Sometimes I still have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. Like the day she told me she was pregnant I nearly fainted and had to sit down. I was going to be a father! If you'd told me a couple years ago that now I'd be married to the woman of my dreams and that she would be carrying my child I would have laughed in your face. Or punched you. Depends on when and where you asked.

Even though we're both looking forward to being parents, I can't help wondering whether the baby will eventually develop symptoms of schizophrenia. Hell, I worry about a lot of things. Alex and me getting older, for one. She's nearly fifty and I'm already fifty-one. Although, now that we're immortal fairies, that may not be as much of a big deal. I can already feel myself getting younger. I spotted a black hair lurking in the front half of my scalp the other day. The liver spots I swore I saw on the side of my neck are disappearing. My bum knee doesn't hurt as much anymore either. For the first time in years I can go up and down the stairs without stopping to rest the damn thing. And Alex! She's always been incredibly beautiful, I noticed the crow's feet on her eyes are mysteriously shrinking.

Also, I never had a good father figure, as a kid or an adult. The man I thought was my father was a gambling womanizer, Declan kidnapped Alex and murdered the only family I had left, and the less said about Mark Ford Brady the better. Alex keeps trying to reassure me I'll be a great parent. I suppose she's partly right- at least I know what _not_ to do as a father.

I need to get out of this cabin. I worry too much when I stay in one place too long.

The snowstorm lasted three days. When they finally got out of the cabin, Mike was the first to volunteer to drive up to the city. As it turned out, New Yorkers were doing what they'd always done after a disaster- they adapted and thrived.

**The End**

(Author's note: Originally, this was going to be separate from Survival of the Fittest, but I thought it'd be easier just to put SotF and its sequels as one long fic.)


	13. Night Terrors

Bobby was unprepared when the nightmares first came. He woke up covered in sweat, heart racing, and his wife Alex huddled on the far side of the bed, nearly fallen off and staring at him with a terrified, questioning gaze. She had one hand clutched protectively over her swollen belly. There his child grew, almost ready to be born. Bobby reached out his three-fingered hand to reassure her. Alex's eyes flicked from his hand to his face, cat-like ears flattened against her skull.**  
"**Alex?" he whispered. "It's okay. It was just a dream. It's okay." His wife's ears twitched forward.**  
"**Just a dream? You were screaming. I'd be surprised if people in China didn't hear you." she told him, a bit acridly. He flinched away from his wife's words. A knock came at the door.**  
"**Is everything alright in there?" their friend Zach asked through the doorway. "Mike wanted to burst in, but, ah, I warned him not to." after a moment, Alex called,**  
"**We're fine! Go back to bed." She could hear shuffling on the other side of the oak wood door. Finally,**  
"**Oh. Okay. Goodnight." She could hear them leaving, the shuffle of plush slippers and the click as Mike disarmed his gun. Bobby crawled across the bed towards his wife. He helped her get back on the bed completely and let her lay her head on his broad chest.**  
"**Do you want to tell me about it? The dream." she asked quietly when they had settled back down.**  
"**I heard screaming. There were bodies... hanging from the ceiling. Blood everywhere. I could... somehow feel them being tortured. It was like I was being tortured myself." Alex was quiet for a long while, running her hands through her husband's darkening curls.**  
"**That's horrible." she murmured. "At least it's over."**  
"**Yeah," Bobby mumbled, drifting off again. "over."****

The next morning was a flurry of activity. It was Zach's turn to cook, which usually meant pancakes of all shapes and sizes. Alex chewed hers thoughtfully as she glanced at her husband. He had tried to brush off his nightmare as 'just one of those things' but she had her suspicions. Ever since the bombings Bobby had grown more and more sensitive to the people around him, almost as if he could sense their emotions. Places, too, seemed to have more of an effect on him. When they had visited her sister at Christmas, he'd commented that her house had a bit of a melancholy feel. She remembered him asking if someone had ever ended their life in the upstairs bedroom. How he could've found out about the previous owners of Liz's house was mystery, as was his increased sensitivity to... well, everything.**  
"**Something wrong, Alex?" Bobby said, his brown eyes searching her face for hints. Alex looked down at her plate.**  
"**It's nothing, I just..." she looked back up at the father of her child. "We need to talk about that 'dream' you had last night. You know, the one that scared the ever-loving crap out of at least three twenty year veterans of the NYPD." She regretted her tone almost immediately. Bobby's face fell and he looked away from his wife in shame.**  
"**It was so real..." he whispered, leaning across the table. "It... terrified me."**  
"**Terrified the rest of us too." said Mike from the kitchenette. When the couple looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. "Werewolf hearing." he sauntered over to the table and plopped down beside the bulky detective. "You gonna be okay?" Bobby glanced at his wife and nodded.**  
"**I'll be fine. It was... just a dream." A few minutes later Zach rushed into the room, bearing his laptop.**  
"**Hey, I thought you might want to see this." He set the computer on the table and turned it towards his three companions. It was an e-mailed video sent by one of Zach's numerous Fae contacts. When he pressed play Bobby's heart dropped to his stomach. It was his dream, down to the last drop of blood coming from the victims. When it was over, Alex was looking at him in concern.**  
"**This was your dream, wasn't it?" Bobby nodded, too shocked to say anything.**  
"**So Bobby's psychic as well as a troll." Mike summed up. Zach cut in with an explanation.**  
"**Normally, trolls are empaths, but a few have... stronger gifts." Alex scoffed.**  
"**You call screaming nightmares about dead people being hung from a ceiling a 'gift.'" Zach's large brown eyes flicked to his colleague.**  
"**No... what was important was that it hadn't happened yet." He licked his lips before continuing. "Has anyone else noticed... changes in mental abilities?"**  
"**I can't grab the remote with the power of my mind, if that's what you're asking." Mike quipped. Zach gave him a dirty look. The lone female in the group glanced from man to man. There was an undercurrent here, one she wasn't easily picking up on.**  
"**That wouldn't be something you would experience." said the tall detective icily. "Werewolves aren't usually psychic as well."**  
"**Okay, so what's going on, here?"**  
"**Well, ah... I've contacted a few people and it seems... that a few other people have been kidnapped and sent to medical facilities around the US."**  
"**What kind of other people?" asked Mike.**  
"**People with... certain abilities beyond what's... normal for their species."**  
"**Well, as far as we know, Bobby's the only one of us with these so-called 'special powers.' Why were the rest of us kidnapped?" Zach glanced down at his computer.**  
"**Well, I suppose... we just got in the way. Or they wanted to...study how the change affected previously normal humans."**  
"**We were test subjects?" asked Alex. Zach nodded.**  
"**The first in a global series of conversions. The US was first," he said, bringing up a map of the world on his laptop. "then Canada, the UK," he continued, pointing as he went. "Russia, China, Australia, Japan, South Africa, Brazil. All of them hit within a few hours of us escaping from the facility."**  
"**It's a..." Bobby started. "It's deliberate. One by one. All hit by bombing, then shockwaves, then the gas that... converted us." He allowed himself a quick glance at his tail, which was sweeping from side to side across the oak wooden floor. "They don't care how many people die. They just want more people to turn into full-blooded Fae."**  
"**Why?" asked his wife. "To wipe out the human race?" The four detectives were silent for a long moment.**  
"**This is genocide." Mike finally whispered. "They're trying to wipe out the human race."**  
"**Replace it with Fae." Zach finished for him. "Use the remaining humans... as slave labour. The Fae have been doing that for centuries." Everyone turned to stare at the lanky detective. He shrugged.**  
"**Fae are elitist, think they're better than humanity."**  
"**Well, they are, in some ways." Bobby pointed out. "Stronger, faster... immortal. But then why would... they hide for millenia, and lash out... just now?"**  
"**They've been waiting." said Zach softly. "For something."**  
"**Like what?" asked Mike. "The birth of the Antichrist?" Zach shook his head.**  
"**Faeries don't pay much attention to Christian mythology. The Church hasn't always been... tolerant of the Good Folk. The Inquisition? Started by an anti-Fae faction of the Catholic Church."**  
"**So this is payback." said Bobby. "Years of... persecution. Repression." He got up and started to pace, his "brilliant detective" mode in full force. "So the main question is... why now? Why not in..." he searched for a year. "1887? 1927? 1990? Why 2012?"**  
"**Mayan calendar?" suggested Mike. "The, ah, one with the guy in the middle with his tongue-"**  
"**That's Aztec." Bobby cut in. "And... the Mayans didn't actually predict the end of the world, just the end of the calendar."**  
"**Besides, if it really was the Mayans, the bombings would have started in December, not October." added Zach. The other detective put up his hands in surrender.**  
"**Okay, okay, not the Mayans. Any other theories swimming around in that great big brain of yours?" Bobby gave his friend an odd look.**  
"**Possibly. I have to... see what the weather's going to be like tomorrow." He left the room, still muttering to himself. Alex smiled at her husband's remarkable thought pattern.**  
"**Well this is going to be interesting." she commented.


	14. Embarrassing Parent Stories Part 1,000

After lunch Bobby gathered up the detectives to drive into the city to run errands. Alex's pregnancy prevented her from driving, so Mike had taken over chauffeuring duties until she gave birth.**  
"**Bobby?" asked Zach tentatively.**  
"**Hm?"**  
"**I think my mom would have some books on psychic abilities. If you want-"**  
"**Sure." he interrupted, taken aback a little. "That could... that would help, thank you." Alex glanced from her husband to her friend. There, also, was some undercurrent of something. She filed it away to deal with later.****

When they got to Sophia's club they came in the way they had back in October when this whole thing had began. There was still the forest of tents and the sickeningly sweet scent of weed and opium, but the room was now decorated in more spring-like colors, light yellows and pinks with the occasional rabbit or daffodil painted on the banners.**  
"**Already decorating for Beltane." Zach commented. "It's barely April."**  
"**The humans always put out Christmas decorations in late October." came a voice from behind them. The detectives spun around nearly in unison and came face to face with Dr Sophia Nichols, a Park Avenue psychiatrist with a sideline in drug havens. "So why shouldn't we Fae anticipate Beltane in April?"**  
"**Hello, Mother." said Zach, trying not hunch a little in her presence. He loved his mother, certainly, but that didn't stop him from being a more than a bit frightened of her. She was a shade, a being of pure shadow in human form. At the moment, however, she showed little proof of her species, save her black-pool eyes.**  
"**Hello, my son. Let me look at you. I haven't seen you for months!" she inspected her offspring, then moved along to his companions, smiling with approval at Alex's swollen abdomen. "Any day now." she commented. Alex returned the Fae woman's expression, putting her arm around her husband.**  
"**Any day." Sophia gave Mike a once-over and turned back to her son.**  
"**Where's the rest of them?"**  
"**Megan's in Albany with her mother." explained Zach. "And Carolyn got an apartment in the city. One of the first to be rebuilt. She's helping to keep order there." Sophia laughed.**  
"**Good on her! Always nice to be part of the action. You said on the phone that you needed use of my library." Mike gave the lanky detective a dirty look.**  
**_'You planned this?!'_he mouthed angrily. Zach shrugged sheepishly.**  
"**I think I have a few books on special gifts, but you'll have to check." she smirked at Alex. "I'd like to talk to Detective Eames alone."****

When she'd herded the rest of the group down the corridor leading to her personal library, Sophia Nichols lead Alex into her personal study. She poured a cup of peppermint tea for her guest, while the detective settled herself into an ornate antique armchair with a huff.**  
"**I can't wait to have this kid." she commented. "I'm getting sick of waddling." Sophia laughed and served the tea.**  
"**I remember being pregnant with my son. He was a chubby little baby, if you can believe that." Alex smiled at the thought. "He was such a quiet child, except for a little incident at school with a popsicle and a pair of sneakers, but I was proud the day he entered medical school."**  
"**From what I hear, he quit. Must have been quite a disappointment." Sophia chuckled, half to herself.**  
"**I suppose. His father took it harder than I did. We were having the first of our marital problems back then, so I figure that was his way of defying the both of us."**  
"**Every child rebels. I almost look forward to what this kid's got in store for us." she said pointing at her belly. Sophia grinned.**  
"**I can see why my son likes you so much he's willing share you with two other men." Alex spat out her tea in shock.**  
"**I-! What-! Who-! I AM A MARRIED WOMAN! I'M MARRIED TO MY HUSBAND!" Sophia seemed completely unaffected by her guest's outburst. She took a sip of her own tea and thought a moment before replying.**  
"**And the two of you seem very happy together. However," she added, refreshing her and Alex's teacups. "I have also noticed that neither the two of you, my son, nor that other gentleman-"**  
"**Mike Logan." Alex corrected automatically.**  
"**Mike Logan have attempted to move out of that cabin of yours. Now, Faeries are matriarchal- I only took my ex-husband's name to make it easier on my little ones."**  
"**Ones? Plural?"**  
"**I'll be going back, soon. Sophia Silverstein." Alex stared at the older woman in shock. "It's perfectly legal for a Fae woman to take more than one male partner. And you, my dear, are now a Fae woman, whether the conservative faction of Good Folk believe so or not."**  
"**Good Folk." Alex said numbly. Her brain was reeling with the implications of the mysterious something she had felt between both Zach and Mike and Zach and her husband.**  
"**The Fae. It's a slang term, along with Fair Folk, Good Neighbours-"**  
"**Whoa, wait a minute." Alex put her cup down on the side table. "You're suggesting that I have a polyamorous relationship with my husband and our two best friends and colleagues." Sophia nodded.**  
"**I was in a relationship much like it before." she smiled wistfully. "My first husband left me, and my boyfriend died in the Second World War." Alex just stared. Sophia laughed. "I was born in 1041. I have been a part of many events in history. The Russian Revolution, for example." Alex sighed and put her head in her hands. The door to the study opened. They turned to see Zach Nichols with an armful of books, some in English, but mostly in a variety of foreign languages, some of which Alex failed to recognize.**  
"**Are you ready?" he asked shyly. "Bobby's about ready to leave." He set the books down on a side table and helped Alex out of the armchair. Sophia beamed up at her son.**  
"**Do think about that I have told you, Detective Eames. An opportunity like this doesn't come terribly often." Alex gave her a tense smile.**  
"**I will, Doctor Nichols."**  
"**Silverstein."**  
"**Right. Silverstein. Goodnight." Zach lead the smaller detective out of his mother's study, balancing the books on his shoulder.**  
"**So, what'd you talk about?" he asked once they were out of earshot.**  
"**Oh, not much." said Alex. She couldn't wait to get home and put her feet up. It was at times like this she wished she wasn't pregnant. After that, she felt like having a stiff drink... or twenty. "She did mention an incident with a popsicle and a pair of running shoes." Zach went stark white and nearly tripped over his own shoelaces.**  
"**Uh... for the record that pigeon had it coming!"**  
"**Now I'm really intrigued!"


	15. Mothers

When they got home that evening, Alex thought about what Sophia had told her. While it was true none of them had tried to move out of the cabin, it was also true that there were very few apartments available in the city. She went into her and Bobby's bedroom and lay down on the bed. Soon her husband came in and lay down next to her, undoing his tie as he did so.

"So, how'd your chat go with Doctor Nichols?" he asked finally. Alex groaned and rubbed her face with her hands. "That well, huh?"

"She... made some unorthodox suggestions about our living arrangements."

"Huh." he glanced toward the ceiling. "She... noticed that Zach and Mike haven't... found an apartment yet and aren't exactly... looking." Alex smiled and cuddled closer to her husband.

"Bingo."  
"What'd she suggest... exactly?" Alex sighed and sat up. Bobby followed her, his dark eyes radiating concern.

"She thought we should have a..."

"...a... foursome." he finished. His wife laid her hands on her pregnant belly.

"Don't worry, she got shot down in flames." Bobby smiled a little. There was a small silence.

"Still," he said quietly. "It's... nice having them around." Alex gave him an astonished look. "For the company." he added quickly. "It's... to have people to talk to, it's... nice." He looked away from his partner, wondering whether he'd have to sleep on the couch.

"Bobby..." she whispered finally, taking hold of his shoulder. "I know it hasn't been a bed of roses these past few months, but I don't want to sleep with other men. Sophia was just trying to..." She snorted. "Actually, I don't know what the hell she was doin'." That brought a soft chuckle from her partner. "But I'm perfectly happy the way we are. I love you." Bobby smile grew, and he leaned down to give her a kiss.

Alex felt something damp between her legs. She looked down. Her husband's eyes followed hers, his mouth forming a perfect O.

"Umm... your water broke." he said dumbly. Alex glared at him. "I should get the car." Alex raised her eyebrows at him. The first contraction hit and she doubled over, her claws pricking her husband's skin through his jacket. Bobby looked from her to the water. He'd prepared for this, but at the moment his mind seemed to have gone completely blank. Within seconds Mike and Zach were at the door, faces flushed from running.

"We have to get her to the hospital." stated Mike. When the other detective failed to act, he went over and lifted Alex into a bridal carry. Finally the husband managed to snap out of it and took his wife from his friend.

"Nichols, go start the car." Within seconds the lanky detective was off running faster than any human towards the garage. Bobby followed as fast as he could, his wife panting and gritting her teeth.

"Dammit, Bobby, hurry!" she ordered. "She'll be out any..." Another contraction cut her off. She let out a cry of pain and increased her hold on her husband's bicep.

"It's an hour to the hospital." said Mike. "Think she'll make it?"

"She'll have to." replied Bobby. He turned to his wife. "Sorry, honey."

"Just drive." she grunted.

Bobby sped all the way to the hospital, whilst trying not to get them both in a car accident along the way. He could hear Alex's groans of pain from the backseat, intersped with feline mewling and hisses. They made it, finally, and Bobby carried his wife into the emergency room, eyes wild. They managed to get a room fairly quickly, due to exactly how quickly their daughter was coming. Years later Bobby would still remember every detail of that moment, from the smell of disinfectants that seemed to permiate every hospital room in existance to the first thought he had after he heard his daughter's cries for the first time, mingling in with the cries of her mother, his wife. _'I have a daughter.'_ he thought joyfully. Every second of his life had been leading up to this exact moment, a mere prelude to the tiny being he and his wife had created a little over nine months ago. Suddenly, a dark mass settled in the pit of his stomach. _'Something's wrong.'_

"It's a girl!" the doctor informed him. After the umbilical cord was cut, they wrapped his daughter up in a pink blanket and gave her to Alex. He reached over to kiss his wife on the forehead, then to stroke his newborn daughter's cheek for the first time. He counts her tiny fingers. Five, perfectly shaped, though with tiny, pin-like claws the Fae doctor assured him was from his wife's nekomata physiology. The baby's ears were pointed upwards, clearly his contribution, and Bobby swore he could see the barest hint of a miniscule tail, also an attribute he had passed on to his daughter. When the gas had changed his wife's apperance, so did it affect the tiny life she know held at her breast. He was amused, slightly to see that his daughter was kneading her mother's breast, like a kitten.

"Her eyes should open in about five days, Detective Goren." said the doctor, getting ready to leave. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." the bulky detective said before turning his attention back to his wife. "So."

"So." There was a kind of peace in the delivery room, the sun shining through the open window, the whiteness of the room creating a soft aura around the bed.

"We... talked about... what we'd call her a while back."

"I remember." said Alex, a soft smile on her face. She looked happier than she had in months,her face shining with sweat and pride at her beautiful newborn.

"You wanted... to name her Grace. For... your grandmother." Alex chuckled softly, earning a small grunt from their baby girl. She remembered that conversation vividly.

_"__Grace." she said as she sat down on the bedspread. She was now five months along, over halfway to her due date. Bobby rushed over ot help her sit. She waved him away and lay down. Her back was killing her._

_"__Uh, sorry?"_

_"__Grace was my grandmother's name after she came over from Ireland. Before it was something else."_

_"__Gráinne." Alex looked at him in surprise.  
"Yes! How did-?"_

_"__It's the Irish version." he explained. "There was a... a pirate by that name in the 16__th__ and 17__th__ centuries. Grace O'Malley. They called her 'The Sea Queen of Connaught'" Alex laughed and patted the space beside her. Bobby carefully sat down and lay next to his wife. She automatically snuggled up closer, resting her head on his arm._

_"__My grandmother was named after a pirate." she said, tickled. "That explains... _so much_." Bobby joined her, his low chuckle joining her higher pitched snorting laugh._'I wouldn't trade her for the world.'_ he thought._

Footsteps in the hall diverted the couple's attention. Zach Nichols and Mike Logan stood in the doorway, holding a teddy bear and a basket of flowers.

"You left us in a lurch back there." said Mike, presenting the bear to his friend. "I didn't know what to get so..." Alex smiled.

"Thank you, boys." Zach put down the basket awkwardly on the bedside table.

"These are, ah... from my mom." he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. Alex looked at him fondly.

"I should send a thank you card." A new voice came from just inside the hall.

"Ah, you're all here." said the delivery doctor. He held up a small device and everything went black.


	16. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Alex woke up to darkness, the barest amount of light slipping through a high window with bars. She tried to move from the cot she found herself lying on. No restraints this time, but her lower body was still sore from childbirth. Grace. Where was Grace?

"Hello?" she called. There was no reply. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks before she could blink them away. "You bastards." she said stubbornly. "Give me back my daughter!" Her throat felt like it was filled with sand. It was all she could do to keep from giving up.

The door opened, bringing a sliver of eye-gouging fluorescent light into the room. A nauseatingly familiar face greeted the blonde detective.

"Hello, Detective Eames. You remember me, don't you? I'm Doctor Faure."

"Where the hell is my family?" Doctor Faure walked closer to the cot. There was something different about the star nymph. When Alex tried to lunge at the pleiad, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen.

"Your daughter's fine, I just checked on her. Your husband's only a few doors down." Alex glared daggers at the doctor as she let herself be examined without protest. When it was over she lay back on the cot and blew a stray lock of hair out of her face. She felt herself being lifted out of bed and into a wheelchair. Doctor Faure lead her out of the room, down a sterile white hallway and into a small nursery with a delicately carved oak cradle in the centre. In it, was Grace. Alex wheeled herself over and checked her daughter for injury. Seeing none, she snuggled closer, marveling at her own little "miracle of life." Alex may not have been religious, but at that moment in time, she felt incredibly blessed. The Fae woman behind her spoke, the regret clear in her voice.

"We're not monsters, you know." she said softly. "The Good Folk don't conceive easily, so the birth of a child is always a reason to celebrate."

"You did the right thing." replied Alex. Her daughter began to fuss and the detective undid her shirt to nurse. When she was finished, she did it up again and rocked her daughter to sleep, humming a lullaby under her breath. Doctor Faure stood behind Alex's wheelchair and coughed. It was time for them to go. The tears were streaming down her face in earnest now, despite the detective's attempted to blink them back. She kissed her sleeping daughter on the forehead and laid her down in the cradle. She brought the tiny blanket around Grace's shoulders and tucked it in under her.

"I'll be back, sweetheart." she whispered. "I'll get you out of here."

Doctor Faure lead the detective back to her room and helped her lay back down on the cot. When she was settled and the pleiad was ready to go, Alex tugged on the doctor's arm.

"I know you're not all monsters. Thank you." Doctor Faure gave a tiny smile and turned to exit the room. At the last moment, she turned back to her patient and said,

"There's a shift change at noon. For about five minutes, your family's unguarded. To the left, opposite side of the hall, last door on the right. You didn't hear it from me." She then left, closing the door behind her. Alex dropped her head to the pillow and grinned for the first time since she woke up. There was a chance, and all she had to do was take it.


	17. Gone Gone Gone

Noon came, and true to Doctor Faure's word the humanoid lion at the end of the hall left his post. Alex opened the door a crack and checked for any remaining medical staff. Seeing none, she crept out into the hall to retrieve her daughter. Once this had been accomplished, she began to search for the room where her husband was being kept. A quick inspection revealed no results. She searched farther down the hallway, at last finding him in a room close to the exit Doctor Faure had told her about. Her husband was lying down on the cot sleeping, possibly drugged. She snuck closer and whispered in his ear.

"Bobby." He stirred and opened his soft brown eyes.

"Alex?" he slurred. Definitely drugged. Alex showed him their daughter, who was just now waking up. Bobby smiled. "I never even got to hold her at the hospital."

"Try to get up, and you can hold Gracie all you want." She shifted the baby to one arm and helped him sit up. He rubbed his eyes and seemed unsteady.

"How?" he mumbled.

"The doctor who checked up on us the first time had a sudden change of heart." Bobby sat up straighter, swaying a little.

"And?"

"I think it's legit. She seemed completely remorseful." Her husband nodded and tried to stand. With his wife's help they managed to reach the door to the outside. They went up a flight of stairs nearly seven stories. By the end of their trek Bobby had stopped swaying and had seemed to have regained all of his mental facilities. There Bobby finally took his daughter into his arms. The baby snuggled against her father and reached out her tiny hand. He let her grab his index finger.

"She's perfect." he declared, awestruck. Her tiny tail peeked out and tickled Bobby's finger.

"Bobby?" whispered Alex. He looked up.

"Hmm?"

"We have to go. Now." He tucked his daughter's extra appendage back into her blanket.

"Right. Why don't we..." he looked around. "...try and figure out... where... we are." He gave Grace back to his wife. He looked to the sky and turned in a circle. Alex watched him with increasing amusement.

"Or we could just head towards the smokestack." she said, pointing. Bobby looked, and lo and behold, a tiny column of smoke could be seen in the distance, just barely out of smelling range. He glanced at his wife and back at the smoke.

"It... it could be a forest fire." he pointed out.

"After a rainstorm?"

"Oh."

"Still recovering from the drugs they gave you?"

"I, uh... I suppose so." They set off.


	18. Liquid Courage

Mike knew something was wrong when he woke up in his own bed. He sat up, getting his hair caught in the bed springs of his roommate's bunk. Swearing under his breath, Mike untangled himself, making a mental note to get a haircut sometime soon. When he was free of the coils, Mike noticed the slight depression in the mattress. He poked it. A groan came from the top bunk. The depression moved until Zach popped his head down, his bug eyes dazed from whatever the detectives had been knocked out with this time.

"Hi, Logan." he said. "Ah... how's... how's your head?" Mike scoffed.

"Sore. How 'bout you?" Zach shrugged, an impressive feat considering that he was upside down.

"Better. Um..." the corners of his roommate's mouth twitched upward. "What's so... what's so funny?" Mike finally broke into a broad grin.

"You look like that alien guy from the History Channel." Zach's head disappeared and his roommate's smile vanished.

"Hey, buddy..." He started to get up. "Zach, c'mon, it was a joke!" Now out from under the bunk, Mike ran his hand through his hair. His brilliant, if aggravating, roommate was nowhere to be seen. "Hey, Zach! Buddy!" He walked through the empty cabin, calling his colleague's name now and then. 'Bastard's been holding out on us.' he thought. 'Never knew he could run that fast.' He turned the corner into a small alcove. Zach was sitting in front of a silver bowl filled with water, chanting in a strange language Mike didn't recognize. He walked in with trepidation, wondering whether it would be wise to disturb his colleague. Zach's eyes had turned into the same black pools as his mother's, and shadows with no discernible light source played around his bare torso, upon which a complicated-looking star symbol was painted in white acrylics. Moving further into the darkened room, Mike couldn't help noticing that his roommate was a lot more buff than he'd thought.

"Hey, Nichols?" he said, quieter than he meant. His roommate has stopped chanting and is now looking into the bowl of water intently, as if he could find the secrets of the universe in a pool of water.

"They're safe." Zach says flatly. Mike's startled by his roommate's voice. "Heading towards another Solitary's house. Clodagh Kelly. Two kids, Siobhan and Oisin. Good people. Trolls, like Bobby." Mike's heart dropped back into his chest as he approached his colleague. He licked his lips. The paint glimmered in the candle light as Zach spoke, emphasizing his lean, muscular frame.

"Sorry, who's safe?" he asked.

"Alex, Bobby, and the baby. They're safe." Zach blew out the candles and cracked his neck. "My shirt's on the piano. Could, uh... could you-?"

"Oh. Sure." Mike tossed his friend the shirt. "So, what were ya doin'?"

"Scrying." Zach replied, getting up to drain the bowl into the garden. "How do my eyes look?"

"Ah..."

"Still black?" Mike nodded. Zach closed his eyes and shook his head a little.

"How about now?"

"Back to normal." The lanky detective relaxed.

"I'll be in the shower." he muttered. "Then we'll see if we can join them at the Kellys'."


	19. Crazy Random Happenstance

After about an hour of walking Alex and Bobby came across a clearing with a bone fide fairy tale-esque cottage. They paused at the edge of the trees, uncertain as to how to proceed.  
"Alex?" Bobby whispered.  
"Hm?"  
"Maybe... maybe you should go first."  
"I beg your pardon?" Alex watched as her husband struggled for an explanation.  
"They might... they might see you as less of a threat. Take Grace. A... a woman with a baby would be less threatening than... than a, a lone man." Alex gave him a Look. Finally, she sighed and gave in.  
"Fine. But you'll be right behind me." Bobby smiled and caressed his wife's cheek.  
"Always." he promised. They shared a gentle kiss before stepping out into the clearing, Alex carrying the now fussing Grace in her arms. The cottage looked as though it had been copied straight out of the Brothers Grimm, complete with a flower garden, on which a matronly troll was working on. She stood up and turned around.  
"Hello." she greeted them in a thick Irish brogue. "What brings you so far out from civilization?"  
"It's a long story," started Alex. "I don't think you'd believe us if we told you." The woman laughed and began walking towards the couple.  
"What have you got in your arms there?" she asked. At long last Grace began to wail in earnest. Alex tried to calm her, but to no avail. The woman was now standing right next to them, frowning.  
"For heaven's sake, woman! I hope you weren't planning to leave the child in the woods!" Alex and Bobby snapped to attention.  
"What?!" exclaimed Bobby. "No! We were... we were trying to escape from someone. We just need to use your phone, if you have one." He looked dubiously at the tiny cottage. Its owner sighed and put her hands on her hips.  
"I hope you'll pardon me for assuming. Humans do the most terrible things to their young." She glanced finally at Bobby's tail. "Though I suppose neither of you are quite human. My name's Clodagh Kelly. The phone's in the living room, but I insist that you come inside, take care of the little one and have a good cup of tea. Your first?" she asked Alex. The other woman smiled, clearly exhausted.  
"How'd you guess?" Clodagh laughed.  
"Pardon my saying, but you seem a bit overwhelmed." She smiled at Bobby. "Both of you." She did a double-take. "Sorry, have we met?" she asked him. Bobby thought a moment.  
"I... I don't think so. We used to work for Major Case, in the city." Clodagh nodded, thinking.  
"New York police officers. The both of you born there?." Bobby smiled, holding out his hand to shake.  
"I'm from Brooklyn. Alex..." he said, pointing at his wife, "she's from, ah, Innwood."  
"Ah. I could tell by your accents. I'm a native Dubliner, myself." she shook their hands and began walking towards the house, gesturing for them to follow along. "Came to the New World in 18-something to escape that bloody famine. I been thinkin' 'bout goin' back there again, but I got twins, myself. A girl and a boy. They've only got a few more years here a' home, I can stick aroun' 'til then."  
The Kelly house was two stories high, made of mostly concrete and stone cobbles, with a gravel driveway surrounded by massive oak and pine trees. Bobby glanced around, his face crinkled with thought. Alex nudged him.  
"A penny for your thoughts?" she asked jokingly. She's put her finger in Grace's mouth to placate her daughter for the moment; she hoped Clodagh would allow her to nurse once they got inside.  
"Catskills..." he muttered. "The Erlking... brought us to the Catskills to... what? Study us? Study..." he swallowed. "To study Gracie?" Alex shuddered.  
"Why don't we ask her when we get inside?" she said, indicating their hostess. "We'll have to tell her what happened anyway." Bobby nodded.  
"Right..." They'd reached the house, where Clodagh was holding open the door for the couple. She smiled.  
"You can nurse in the kitchen, Alex. I'll get the kettle on and find some cookies." She came in after Bobby, closing the screen door behind her.  
"And then, of course, you'll have to tell me what on Earth happened to you." Alex sighed.  
"It's a long story..."


End file.
